


Light a (red) Candle

by Fishpaste



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Blood, Emotions, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hell, Minor Injuries, Presumed Dead, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2019-11-15 06:57:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18068732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishpaste/pseuds/Fishpaste
Summary: It was supposed to be a simple reap, and now the London dispatch agency must cope with the aftermath.





	1. Chapter 1

The long black arm, fully as thick as a tree trunk and topped with a hand covered in black spikes that oozed a foul smelling dark liquid, slammed into where Grell had been standing a microsecond before. Laughing in glee and excitement, she spun fluidly and brought the whirring blade of her chainsaw down, driving it into the fleshiest part of the arm and splattering dark red blood over the area. A scream of inhuman agony curled up from within the demon’s chest and it jerked back, ripping free of the death scythe and sending Grell reeling back a few steps towards where Ronald was crouched down next to a corpse, eyes fixed on the unravelling cinematic reel so the soul could be reaped before the demon devoured it. Seeing its meal opportunities being stolen in front of its hundreds of eyes, the shifting monster gave an outraged bellow and charged forward again. Grell met it head on, moving faster than the human eye could follow, glinting silver scythe flickering through flesh, bone and dark metallic armour with equal ease. Manic laughter filled the courtyard along with a spray of hot steaming blood as one of the demons long backward jointed legs was neatly separated from its body, though it still had another six to balance on.

The reel came at last to its end and Ronald moved swiftly to gather the soul and mark his ledger. He cast one last quick look around the courtyard, five limp bodies, and two that had been completely, well, shredded by the demon they’d summoned, seven souls marked off in his book, one hungry demon who would not be getting to interfere with Ron’s work and make him have to write out another letter of apology and one blood soaked and terrifying senior Reaper who had been having far too much fun keeping the demon off Ron while he worked; although he had to admit that when you were fighting a demon, Grell Sutcliff was the one you wanted by your side, and she’d even thank you for the privilege! 

“All done Miss Sutcl-woah!” The demon had apparently decided that, since the Reapers had so professionally sent its meals off to judgement instead of its belly, it would content itself with ripping them into tiny bloody pieces instead. Ron jerked his own scythe up to block the gleaming teeth hurtling towards his head and leapt aside to where Grell was harassing a leg that was trying to impale her into the crumbling brick of the cellar the ritual had taken place in. Why was it always cellars? Or basements? Or anywhere dark, damp and dingy for that matter? Why couldn’t people choose to summon a demon somewhere nice and light and airy, where Ron would have plenty of room to manoeuvre and not be tripping over loose bits of wood and shattered bricks? Hissing under his breath as he stumbled over a tangled chain and feeling his ankle twisting painfully, he slammed the body of his mower against the demon’s head, knocking it back a few feet and allowing both Reapers a moment to catch their breaths. Grell had turned to watch one of the few living humans flee the room, an oversized book clutched in his arms as though it were the most precious thing on earth and Ron groaned in dismay, the fanatical gleam in the boys eyes was familiar enough...there’d be more demon summoning far too soon, and that would mean overtime; he hated overtime.

“Ladies first?” He offered to his mentor, turning back to the demon they still had to cope with. Grell gave a sharp cackle and pointed at the symbol written in blood upon the floor. A faint glow hung about it, sullenly lighting up that corner of the room and Ron grinned as the significance of that struck him; the gate had not been completed properly.

“Killing a demon is such fun, but I do believe we can take a short cut with this little monster!” Grell said smugly, lifting her chainsaw once again and preparing to plunge back into battle.

“We just need to force it to touch the symbol, right? And it’ll get sucked right back to wherever it came from?”

“To hell my dear! Straight back down to the burning pits of fire!” And fire itself seemed to glint off her glasses as she spoke, emphasized by the sharp teeth and shining metal scythe. She sprang forward, leaping across the floor and the demon lunged up to meet her charge, savage arms rushing towards her, even as a long tail whipped across to where Ron was running forward. He leapt over it, swinging his scythe up and over his head; he wanted a clear shot at the thing’s body now. Grell brought her chainsaw down towards its throat, kicking away any limbs that were trying to grab her in the process and the demon flinched back briefly. Pressing that advantage, Ron body checked it with his shoulder, hoping to knock it off balance and stomped the blades of his scythe into its foot. The sound it emitted was indescribable, high pitched howls of anger and pain, teeming with the threats of unholy punishment for these attacks. Ron jumped aside as it automatically turned on him, twisting to bring his claws to his head. Grell, however, leapt upwards once more, flipping upside down and pushing off the ceiling, speeding towards its head, and this time her scythe connected, the blade sinking up to the hilt in the odd bulbous head of the demon. The blood spray was thick and powerful, coating the laughing Reaper. It thrashed about, tossing Grell aside, chainsaw clutched in hand. Sinking down slightly, a wound to the brain enough to momentarily overcome even a demon’s regenerative powers, the demon was vulnerable and Ron and Grell jumped right back into the fray.

They worked together; first one harassing it, then when the demon turned to dispatch the one causing it pain, the other would rush in to take advantage of the opening. Ron darted back and forth, harrying its tail, legs, the softer belly and the throat while Grell jumped about like a madwoman, striking all over its back, aiming for the head as often as possible. Blood pooled and spurted and the ground underfoot became treacherous and slick. A claw caught Ron under the chin and he swore as his glasses went flying. The few vital seconds that it took for him to crouch and jam them back on were enough for the demon to recover slightly and launch a counter attack that sent Grell tumbling across the floor, one arm hanging crookedly. She met his eyes determinedly, if this was to be done, it had to be done now!

“No more playing around!”

He charged ahead, scythe raised, forcing the demon to step back, rearing up to bring itself crashing down on him. Grell ran too, jumping up and using Ron as a springboard as she threw herself at its face, chainsaw held one handed and a look of utter feral joy on her face. The scythes slammed in simultaneously, biting deep into flesh and bone, screams rattling around as they maintained momentum. One step after another, shoving, kicking, forcing it back, further back, back to the wall where the glowing sigils awaited. Sensing their intentions, the demon fought back viciously, claws swiping towards them, teeth snapping. Both Reapers dodged with ease and continued their progress. Finally, the tip of the demon’s tail impacted the symbol as it tried to use it to throw both Reapers away. The very instant the demon touched the gate it became fused to it immovably, and no matter how it thrashed and pulled, the tail began to be slowly dragged back through the wall, through the tear in dimensions to where the foul beast resided. Ron stepped back, panting but pleased. He wiped blood off his face as he listened to the beast screech and howl, offering them rewards beyond their wildest dreams, threatening them with deaths horrible beyond imagination and anything else it could think of as it was hauled backwards.

“That didn’t go too badly, did it now?” He grinned. “Maybe we’ll even avoid overtime for once!”

“I wouldn’t count on it darling! And besides, it’s not as though this wasn’t worth any and all overtime we receive in payment.” Covered from head to toe in blood, holding onto a scythe in her good arm and with her pointed teeth practically glittering, Grell looked like a demonic being herself. Ron was very very thankful she was on his side.

The demon was nearly fully through the portal now, only its head and one long thick arm still protruding. Grell leaned forward and blew it a kiss, waving sweetly as the head was slowly sucked through. The demon’s eyes burned red with hate.

“Buh bye now! Don’t forget who kicked you back into that little pit won’t you now?” She beamed. 

Something changed in the monster’s eyes, a level of calculation that hadn’t been there before and Ron felt a surge of alarm as it opened its mouth and hissed. 

“Oh of course I won’t, and neither will you!” 

The head vanished into the abyss and Ron and Grell barely had enough time to glance at one another in puzzlement before the leg suddenly stretched, growing longer and thinner in a way nothing natural to the earth could ever have done. It split into several thin tentacles, that all hurtled towards the Reapers faster than thought. Ron shouted in alarm as one wrapped itself around his arm, contracting with unbelievable force and dragging him swiftly towards the gate. Eyes wide with horror he fumbled for his scythe but before he could even grasp the handle correctly, silver flashed in front of his face and he was released as a chainsaw sliced neatly through the inky black tendril. Grell stood protectively over him, eyes fixed on the remaining threats. They seemed to hesitate and then, as though aware of how they were all still being pulled back to hell, they rushed forward at once. Grell met them head on, scythe whirling around as she sliced through them, easily dodging the few that passed her defences. Ron scrambled back to his feet, intent on helping her, they only had to avoid them a few more moments, the demon was nearly all through the portal...the tendrils had realised Grell’s weak point, the arm still hanging limp and painful at her side and were making a concentrated attack, intent on slapping them away she didn’t notice the final one shooting up at her from the floor. Ron lunged towards it, and felt his ankle, twisted before on the uneven floor, and further betrayed by the blood and gore coating the surrounding, twist underneath him. He crashed down. It only took him a second to get back up, mower slamming towards the fight, but in that second, the tendril had wrapped around Grell’s leg. She fell to the floor with a shriek of surprise, glasses bouncing off her face and only held around her neck by the chain as she began sliding back towards the doorway to hell. Ron dashed towards her, hands outstretched, she was against the portal now, and being dragged in just as the tendrils were. He flung himself to her, grabbing for her wrists, but his fingers only barely brushed hers. He got a last glimpse of panicked green eyes and a brief flare of hot red flames before she was gone. The symbol painted in blood stopped glowing, fading back to a dirty brown as Ron slammed his fists futily against the rough stone, screaming his friend’s name.

 

***

 

He didn’t know how long he knelt there, rough stone under his knees and the choking darkness practically swallowing him. It could have been a few hours, it could have been a few years. If he moved, he felt, if he took in a fresh breath, stood up and returned to the outside world, out of the cellar where it had happened, then it would be real, not some nightmare scenario. It would be real and he would never be able to change it or go back and do everything differently. As long as he stayed here, against the wall where he could still smell the slowly drying blood that had been daubed onto it, then it wasn’t yet over, somehow he might still have a chance to fix it.

But eventually something disturbed him. A falling brick perhaps? A rat, scuttling down to investigate what had happened? He didn’t know and he didn’t care. But the spell had been broken and the demands of his body reasserted themselves. Ron groaned, his various aches and injuries suddenly clamouring for attention. He was exhausted, thirsty and had a splitting headache, the cut under his chin felt as though it had been dipped in acid, he was fairly certain he had a broken finger and bruised ribs and his ankle had swollen into a boulder of agony. Moving mechanically he pushed himself to his feet. It was pitch black now, the few remaining candles having been extinguished in the fight, but he groped around until he found the handle of his scythe. It was a comfort to hold it again, even more so when it roared to life in his hands. He put it back in the dimension scythes were stored in and, taking a deep breath, jumped back into the Reaper realm.

He knew he should probably head straight to the infirmary, demon wounds had been known to fester, and no one would blame him for stopping to take care of himself before making his report, well, no one except himself. Grell deserved better than a report delivered only after he had been pampered and fussed over in the medical wing. She deserved....

Sharp breath through the nose, force your mind away from that, just focus on getting to Will, making the report. That much he could do for her. He hadn’t been able to stop it happening, hadn’t been able to catch her, hadn’t been good enough. But he could at least tell people what had happened, make his report, it was practically the only thing burning through his mind as he approached the dispatch offices. 

There was a large open floor space set up, where morning briefings were held, and then the desks of the junior associates with the offices for the seniors behind them. Will had his office in the centre, and Grell had managed to wrangle the one right next to him. As Ronald approached the area, he realised he was getting concerned looks from the other Reapers. Passing a highly polished glass door he glanced at his reflection and could understand why; covered in blood and dust and inky black sludge, limping along with dead looking eyes, he’d be concerned if he saw him coming too. He ignored the muttered comments and worried questions; right up until he literally walked into the tall form of Eric, who grabbed his shoulder and forced the younger Reaper to a halt.

“Knox? You okay? Do you need to go to the infirmary?”

Ronald stared at him dumbly for a moment as his brain kicked slowly into gear. 

“I..need to report to Will...” He managed.

“Reports can wait kid, you look like you’ve been through hell and come back out the other side.”

“No, no you don’t understand. I need to talk to Will, I have to report-“

“You don’t have to report anything, you can do all that stuff later!”

“No! I can’t, I need to...” Ron shook his head, he couldn’t hold this just to him, he had to tell Will, had to tell someone what had happened. A small crowd was beginning to gather, Alan was there with his hand on Eric’s arm, some of the other juniors dispatchers, even a confused looking receptionist.

“Ron come on, you look like you’re about to fall down...” Eric’s tone was almost wheedling now, the worry in his eyes clear as he looked at his friend. Ron opened his mouth to respond again but was interrupted when Will’s door swung open and the dispatch supervisor for London stepped out, annoyance plain to read on his features. 

“What’s going on out here?” He snapped, adjusting his glasses as he glared at the little group gathered in the centre of the room. His arrival caused a lot of the younger and more timid Reapers to peel away back to their own desks and jobs, hoping not to catch his ire. Eric stayed, hand still on Ron’s shoulder and Alan too, the three of them all staring at Ron, waiting for an answer.

“I...have to report,” Ron began, everything suddenly feeling almost unreal. He was lightheaded and dizzy, the room tilting back and forth as he stood there; or was he the one swaying? A buzzing was permeating his ears, and he felt almost disconnected from the reality of what was going on. 

“Yes?” Will asked, raising one eyebrow impatiently as Ron stood there looking lost and confused. He glanced at Alan and Eric, who both shrugged at him almost in unison. They had no idea what was going on either. “Where is Sutcliff?” He asked; Ron had been paired with the red haired menace today, so if he was here in this state then where was Grell? He might be an irresponsible madman who delighted in pushing at rules and boundaries, but the other Reaper was genuinely fond of and protective of those he worked with. The only reason William could think of for Ron to be here in this shape and Grell not to be scolding him and dragging him off to the infirmary was that he was already injured and down there himself. He groaned internally, being a Reaper down while Sutcliff recovered from whatever nonsense he’d got himself into would mean more overtime for everyone. Not to mention the headaches caused by a grumpy and healing Sutcliff who would be trapped doing paperwork until fully healed and cleared for field work again. He’d been bad enough after the Campania mess; no doubt he would be even more irritating this time. He settled his glasses more firmly on his nose and waited for the traumatised looking younger Reaper to speak.

“I have to report the death of a Reaper on active duty.” Ron managed to say, every word feeling like lead as it passed his lips. He kept his eyes on the floor, unable to look up and see the expressions on his senior’s faces.

“The death of a...” Eric trailed off, “Ron, where’s Grell?” He didn’t answer and Eric asked again, louder this time but it was all Ron could manage to just shake his head helplessly. He knew he should explain it, tell them about the portal, that the demon had tricked them somehow, pulled Grell through the boundaries between dimensions, that she’d fought the whole way but the doorway had closed behind her, trapping her in hell surrounded by nightmares and demons. But he couldn’t speak, couldn’t say anything more.

“Knox.” Ron raised his eyes to look his supervisor in the face. Will’s face had gone even more still and impassive than usual, absolutely no sign of any emotion in his expression. “What happened to Sutcliff?”

“We...” He took a shuddering breath and tried again. “We were fighting a demon. The portal wasn’t properly closed so we forced it back through...but it grabbed Miss Sutcliff and, and I wasn’t fast enough to pull her out. It took her through with it...” The memory of her hands reaching for him, that last glimpse of her being dragged into hell came back to him, making his stomach turn over.


	2. Chapter 2

Knox was in the infirmary, where he belonged, judging from the sheer state of him. Will had sent him there with Humphries when he’d nearly thrown up and gone paler than a corpse. Now he was approaching the location of Sutcliff’s last reap followed by three other senior Reapers, all with drawn scythes and ready for battle. A Reaper may have been killed in this place; he did not intend to lose any more in the investigation of how this had come to be. To his left Slingby was looking furious, clearly spoiling for a fight, he never had dealt well with helplessness Will reflected, but it would have been impossible to leave him behind, he’d simply have to hope that he’d be able to control his temper whatever their findings happened to be.

They circled the lonely house, no one needing to speak. Dawn was beginning to rise, a pale haze in the east that added light to the scene but no colour. The house stood with the door flung wide open, and Jeffries, one of the newly promoted seniors, waved Will over and indicated where a carriage had clearly left the building recently and at great speed. Will nodded, snapping his scythe around to bar Slingby from storming straight towards the front door. There had been a demon summoning here, caution was required. Slingby glowered, but fell back as Rathbone returned from surveying the back of the house, signalling all was clear. 

As they entered the building the lack of human habitation became even more apparent. This house had not been lived in for years. The walls were damp and peeling, and there were holes in the floor where rotten boards had given loose. What little furniture that remained was broken beyond repair and covered in a thick layer dust and there was no light at all. Thankfully Reaper’s eyes were stronger than humans in some ways, and the near total darkness did not hinder them as they proceeded. Of course, the payoff for the increased night vision, as well as the ability to see things no human could, up to and including other dimensions, was extreme nearsightedness, rendering a Reaper practically blind without their spectacles.

The sense of a demon was impossible to forget once felt, a dark cold feeling. Will could remember Humphries describing it as ‘the taste of old soot and the feeling of falling mixed with the scent of rotted meat and the sound of grinding glass’. A more poetic description than Will would have ever used himself, but still rather apt, demons didn’t belong on the mortal realm, and how Sutcliff could stand to chase around the one bound to the Phantomhive boy was beyond comprehension. Here however, it was clearly coming from below, unholy rituals often seemed to take place underground, in caves or cellars. There was no real reason for this; presumably those places just gave a better atmosphere for the humans planning on defying all laws of nature and good sense to summon literal hell to their own worlds.

There were no sounds coming from the basement, and no sign of any movement either. Nonetheless, all four Reapers remained on high alert as they entered, immediately spreading out to avoid any attack, weapons held out ready and prepared for any scenario they might encounter. The cellar was in shambles; an overturned alter table, corpses strewn about like so many broken rag dolls and rubble scattered around, clear evidence of both the summoning and the fight that had occurred here. After a long moment of waiting, nothing jumped out to attack the Reapers and they began to move forward further to investigate more thoroughly. Jefferies bent to confirm each of the bodies was that of a deceased human while the others approached the summoning symbol on the wall. 

Will felt his chest tighten slightly as he looked around, no matter how firmly he tried to box away all his emotions right now, the sinking knowledge that there was no sign of Sutcliff anywhere was making its presence felt. And if his colleague wasn’t here, then where was he? The wall seemed to loom even larger as he stared at it, clinically remembering every detail of the design. It wasn’t one he recognised, but there were untold thousands of demons out there, it would be highly unlikely for him to be able to recognise this particular one’s symbol. Everything so far was complying with the garbled half report Knox had managed to deliver, a demon summoning, a fight and a missing Reaper, assumed dead. No, he shook his head; he would not start assuming anything at this stage, not until he had further information.

“Non human blood, probably a Reaper’s.” Rathbone reported quietly. She worked in forensics; her opinion on things such as this could be trusted, he told himself.

“That doesn’t mean anything!” Slingby snapped. “Ronald was bleeding when he got back, it could just be from that!”

Will held up a hand to quiet them before the argument devolved further. Crouching down he could see numerous scars in the building obviously caused by death scythes and demon strength. A few strands of red hair twisted around a nail caught his attention briefly, but again, some hairs and a single blood splatter meant nothing, didn’t mean Sutcliff was gone.

“All the bodies check out sir. Humans on the list, souls collected.” Jefferies reported calmly.

“There’s no sign that a Reaper died here.” Will said, standing up again. “There has obviously been a fight between Reapers and demons, but unless we get another eye witness report we will have to wait until Knox is recovered to uncover the truth of what happened here.” It was not a happy realisation, this whole situation demanded answers rather than patience and Slingby seemed even more put out by the enforced suspense, glaring hard at his supervisor. Will cut off the rant he could see coming. “Without more information there is nothing we can do. The best case scenario would be Sutcliff turning up while we wait for Knox to recover but without that occurring we simply do not know enough to give any definitive answers.” 

“We could at least look for them!” Slingby snapped. “If they were injured they might have gone home to recover, or have tried to find their way someplace safe but gotten lost! Just sitting on our hands waiting on a report could be doing far more harm than good, especially if they’re hurt!”

“Honestly.” Will lifted a hand up to adjust his glasses. “The area to be searched is simply too large, a random search will do absolutely no good-“

“It’s not going to do any harm though is it? And it won’t really be random anyway, I know Grell, I know how they think, if they’re still on the mortal or Reaper plane I can find them!” He stared at Will, pleading evident in every line of his stance.

“Slingby...”

“My paperwork is done, really sir, you can’t stop me.”

“I wasn’t going to stop you Slingby.” Will capitulated. In truth he could understand the other Reaper’s desire to be doing something, _anything,_ useful. “Keep in touch if you find anything.”

Slingby practically saluted and dashed away for the stairs, possibly to search the nearby area for an injured Reaper. A brief prayer rose up in Will that he would find something, that this would all blow over and that this time next week he would be back to chasing Sutcliff out of his office, and hounding him for late paperwork. But as it was, he preceded the other two Reapers out of the abandoned house of corpses and jumped back to their own realm, immediately materialising in the infirmary wing. It was time to go and talk to Knox, he needed some answers now.

 

*****

 

The doctors were done with Knox by the time Will made it to the room he’d been stashed in. Humphries had gone too, and Will made an educated guess that he’d gone to join Slingby in his search for their friend. He knocked lightly on the door and entered to find his agent sitting on the edge of a bed with a bandage wrapped around his head and staring at his fingers with a blank expression. He looked up slowly as his supervisor approached and Will frowned, pushing his glasses further up his nose, if Knox was still too out of it to talk then this visit had been a waste of time. Thankfully Knox’s eyes sharpened a bit as Will stepped closer, his gaze becoming less distant and distracted and his spine straightening.

“Mr Spears.”

“Knox. How are you feeling?”

“Um...I’m fine sir, nothing really wrong with me at all.” He gestured to the bandage on his head. “Just a few scratches really. The doctor said I could go once he’d fetched the paperwork.”

“I see.”

There was a short pause during which Knox began to fidget slightly, plucking at his blood and ichor stained suit. He was being far more quiet and subdued than Will was used to. While nowhere near as expressive and exuberant as Sutcliff, Knox was usually energetic and chatty and this dull and listless version didn’t sit right with him. 

“Did you find anything? Alan said you’d gone to check the place...”

“We did,” he confirmed, “but there was no conclusive evidence of what happened there. So we are just waiting your full report before we can start investigating properly.” Knox seemed to droop more at that and Will felt compelled to add, “Slingby and Humphries have begun a manual search for Sutcliff. With luck, they’ll uncover him shortly.”

“They won’t.” The reply was short and bitter. 

“They won’t?”

“I told you. The demon went back through the portal. And it took Grell with it. I was so close sir...I nearly grabbed her, if I’d just, just been a little faster I could have saved them...”

Will sat down on the hard chair pushed up against the wall. 

“Start at the beginning Knox, what happened on that reap?” A written report would have to be compiled of course, but at the moment Will just wanted to know what had happened. Formalities could wait. Knox took a shaky breath and began to describe it, grateful for the chance to finally unburden himself properly.

 

*****

 

It was several hours later that Will sat in his office, his report on the day’s activities completed and submitted. No one else was around, all had returned home long before now and Will relaxed in the silence, sipping from a long cold mug of coffee as he automatically filled in his nightly work, left until far too late but still important. The world did not stop revolving because he had been busy, people still died, paperwork still needed filing and reaps required allocating and he found that almost soothing, losing himself in the familiarity of the calculations and the standard, clichéd phrases that dripped from his pen. Work was a necessity and a comfort; far better than being alone with his thoughts right now.

Truthfully he was avoiding going home, while at work everything was still normal. He was doing overtime, catching up on paperwork...it might be later than even he usually stayed but being alone in the office filling out forms correctly was not an unheard of phenomenon. But once he finished his paperwork and returned to his residence, he would be faced with nothing but his own thoughts; and trying to resolve the idea of an afterlife with an enormous Grell Sutcliff shaped hole in it. Unnoticed by him his pen stilled, bleeding ink onto the page as he stared sightless ahead.

It didn’t seem real. It wasn’t that he’d never faced the prospect of losing a Reaper under his command, and indeed, Sutcliff themselves seemed to relish in pushing the boundaries as far as they could, Will could think of numerous times he’d been faced with the prospect of losing the red headed menace. Only the prospect though, every time Sutcliff had bounced back stronger and more cheerful than ever, going straight back to behaving inappropriately and acting outrageously just to garner a reaction from those around him. This was the first time Will had ever just...lost him, with no hope to hold onto, no praying that he’d make a miraculous recovery or somehow once again defy the odds and rise up again grinning. The curtain had already fallen, and Will hadn’t even known it had happened.

Abruptly he realised his pen had blotted the whole page he’d been working on, and he tore it off with an exclamation of disgust, getting ink all over his fingers as he did so. Wiping it off on his handkerchief he came to the conclusion that his work was obviously not going to get any further completed and he would be far better off going home and at least trying to get some rest before he had to deal with tomorrow.

The office was dim and quiet as he passed through it, resolutely avoiding looking at Sutcliff’s empty desk, and even when he reached his own rather sparse accommodation, it seemed the quiet had followed him. He found himself straining to hear the slightest noises as he changed ready for bed, listening to the way the fabric rustled, the clanking of water in the pipes, the cooing of the pigeons outside his window...it all seemed muffled and dim, as though the real world was locked away leaving Will trapped in his thoughts. He lay there, in his own bed, perfectly comfortable and warm and staring up at the ceiling, unable to close his mind and just fall asleep. Giving in and deciding to face the elephant in the room he turned his thoughts towards his ginger menace of a colleague. He’d known Grell Sutcliff almost his entire existence as a Reaper, they’d sat the exam together, been frequently partnered on reaps when they were juniors, both become seniors at the same time, and then after he’d been promoted, Sutcliff had become one of his agents, making it necessary for Will to see him every day since. The other Reaper had frustrated him, annoyed him, upset his work, and made everything so much harder than it needed to be. He was as unprofessional as Will could imagine, unable to follow any rules, from the dress code to the barrier of personal space or the niceties of simple good taste. He’d lost track of the number of reprimands he’d given him for inappropriate behaviour at work, or for spending time dallying around the mortal world and neglecting his paperwork. A nuisance, a pest and altogether an enormous pain to work with, he was also one of the most capable, diligent and hard working Reapers Will knew. If the job caught his attention Grell Sutcliff could and would work longer and harder than even Will himself. He was loud and flamboyant certainly, but generous to a fault and deeply caring of those he considered friends, most aptly demonstrated by his continued affection for Will despite how rarely the other would reciprocate. In short, Will couldn’t imagine him being gone.

He rolled over to stare at the wall instead of the ceiling for a while. Gone. Dead. Not coming back. Will was a grim Reaper for god’s sake, he knew what death was all too well. Why then, could he just not bring himself to accept that Grell Sutcliff was gone? He knew it, logically, but somehow he still felt absolutely certain that when he went into work tomorrow morning, Sutcliff would wander into his office far too early bearing a coffee and all the latest gossip that Will couldn’t care less about. He simply couldn’t be gone, not Grell Sutcliff, not the man who laughed in the face of horrors that would drive all other men away, not the madman who had taken to being a Reaper like he was born just for that role. Not the man who could switch between the most deadly efficient killer Will could think of to an oblivious idiot fawning over a handsome man nearby. Not Grell Sutcliff. He heaved a sigh and closed his eyes, trying to force a sleep he knew was never going to come.

 

*****

 

Will got into the office before everyone else, blearily sipping from a mug of the strongest coffee he could find in the vain hope that it could replace a night of no sleep. The paperwork had once again multiplied in his absence, but his attention was wholly caught on the embossed official letter that lay in the very centre of his desk. Grimly he slit it open and read through it quickly before leaning back in his chair with a humourless smirk. Of course, should have expected this on top of everything else. He tossed it back down on top of the pile of other reports and tried to ignore it as he started organising the day’s rota. They were two Reapers down after all.

The letter kept creeping back into his mind however, drawing his attention to the neat uniform writing and the title at the top of the page:

Formal Investigation into the Death of a Reaper on Active Duty. 

Culprits: William T Spears (Supervisor)  
Ronald Knox (Dispatch Agent)  
Grell Sutcliff (Dispatch Agent)


	3. Chapter 3

Grell snapped her eyes open, although there really wasn’t much point. Wherever she had been dragged to was pitch black and blazingly hot. Drawing in a breath seemed to be a mistake, the overheated air burned through her lungs and made her gasp, but the pain at least reminded her that she was alive, somehow. Her brain felt rather like it had been slammed into a brick wall repeatedly, but she still remembered exactly how she’d ended up in this predicament and therefore exactly how much trouble she was in right now. At least she could still feel her death scythe, solid and reassuring against her hand, no matter what awaited her in this nightmare place, she was not vulnerable, no matter what others might think. And she was not going to lie down and accept whatever horrific death that this demon no doubt had planned for her! He wasn’t even handsome...

Was she falling? She couldn’t feel any wind rushing past her, but she definitely had that odd weightless feeling that came from falling, straining her ears did nothing, the only audible sound was a high pitched whistling that seemed to be coming from everywhere, and there was nothing within her reach to grab onto either. So she was either floating or falling. Neither of which sounded particularly appealing right now, so she began kicking out and reaching with her scythe, hoping to make contact with some form of solid surface, it would at the very least give her a reference point.

Wasn’t hell supposed to be filled with flames and burning anyway? It was so dark in here and while it was hot, she couldn’t hear any tortured screams or spy any hordes of demons around. All was black and falling and the scent of ash and soot. Huffing in frustration as she continually failed to find any form of solid purchase Grell slowed her movements and thought. Reaching into a pocket with one hand, her fingers closed on a half used box of matches. A delighted grin crossed her face; she’d always known that carrying around odds and ends like these would one day prove useful! It was awkward, pulling out a match and positioning it ready to strike when you couldn’t see what you were doing nor brace against anything, but eventually Grell managed it. She dragged the wax coated match head against the rough paper and saw it spark to life in her hand, the darkness seeming to flee from its bright and cheerful light.

Some form of self preservation made her slam her eyes shut before she could make out any of the things she had glimpsed. A deep and primal instinct within her warned that she did not want to see these, she did not want to even guess what they were, or think about them in any way at all. If she wanted to keep her sanity, which she very much did thank you very much, she would pretend she had never even conceived of the idea of trying to look around her as she fell into the pits of hell. Breathing harshly she shook out the match and vowed to not be too overconfident, she was playing in the enemy’s territory right now, and if she planned on getting out of here alive she would have to be smart, not impulsive.

But her lighting of the match had attracted attention; she could almost feel the awareness of her presence in this dimension growing and gripped her scythe even tighter. No matter what, she would not be taken down without a fight; whoever tried to take out Grell Sutcliff was going to regret it tremendously! She grinned a far too wide and terrifying grin, what a way to go, fighting a demon in hell itself; no one could accuse this of being a boring or mundane way to die!

She had no idea how long she’d been falling when she suddenly slammed into the ground. Hard. A normal human would have been killed by the impact, and even for a Reaper it took her a moment to regain all her sense and painfully push herself up onto her feet; no matter her current injuries she felt it would be a rather bad idea to be caught lying down wherever she was. It certainly felt like normal sturdy ground...and the oppressive heat seemed to have been replaced with an icy wind that cut through her like a knife, making her shiver at the sudden change. She could hear...waves? How peculiar. But there was no sound of any people or movement other than the steady crashing of the sea against rock. She cautiously cracked open an eye, ready to close it the moment she saw anything that could drive her insane, but it all seemed peaceful enough so she opened both eyes and looked around her new surroundings. 

Well, whatever mental image she’d had of hell was entirely wrong it seemed. She was standing on a small windswept island in the middle of an endless seeming ocean. The sky above was dark and seemed to somehow be hanging low above her head with no sign of stars or moon and the light that lit this odd place was coming from no single source. Under her feet were cracked and worn flagstones, muted in colour but reassuringly solid and ordinary and further in the distance she could make out trees. Trees, in hell? The thought was practically absurd; maybe she had already gone mad? Or maybe she had died again and gone to wherever Reapers went when they died. But no, there was a deep oppressiveness about this place, no matter how calm and peaceful it looked, the sense that atrocities had been committed here for longer than she could conceive; as though the ruined buildings ahead of her had been built with the bones of good men and the trees were watered with the blood of innocents. Nothing looked evil or twisted, and yet Grell knew with utter certainty that it was, this was a place of evil choices and their consequences.

“So my little Reaper, you survived this far did you?”

Grell smiled. Evil landscapes and unimaginable horrors might not be quite her style, but if Grell knew anything, it was how to deal with a pesky slimy minion of hell.

“Demon! It was so kind of you to invite me to visit at your place, but I really must protest, don’t you know it’s rude to take a lady home on the first date?”

“Your flippancy will not help you anymore Reaper, there is no escape anymore.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that...most haven’t lived long enough to regret that statement.”

“You’re very cocky for a Reaper trapped within hell and hunted by a demon.”

“Well what can I say, it takes a real man to make me all worked up, and darling you hardly come close to that!”

“Are these comments supposed to prove your lack of fear?”

“Why would I need to prove something I’m most certainly not suffering from. Oh, were you supposed to scare me? You might need to take a few lessons, I can give you some pointers?”

“Enough foolishness, prepare to meet your doom little Reaper!”

“Oh? Finally getting down to business are we?” She raised her scythe up. The demon was still hidden from her, but that was no matter, she was ready for the fight. She planted her feet firmly and checked her glasses were fixed in place. Her arm was still painful from the fight earlier, and made even more so by the rough landing, but this was hardly a situation to let a little pain interfere with her. This was to be a fight to the death, and Grell was going to make it the most dramatic and intense fight to the death that could be conceived of. There might be no way out of this, and no one would ever actually know what had happened to her, but she was not going to let that minor detail discourage her in any way at all.

The demon materialised in front of her and the Grim Reaper ran forward, sharp teeth bared in a feral grin, weapon glinting in the pale light and death followed behind her.

*****

Ron jerked up in bed, hands flying to the shelf where his glasses were kept. He didn’t start calming down until they were on his face and he could look around his room. No one there. He let out a shaky breath and slumped back down on the bed again, dragging his hands across his face as he did so. Nightmares were not something that usually bothered him, but this one had been nasty. A memory more than a night fantasy and one he often tried to forget.

_He was back on the Campania, in the large ballroom which was now covered in blood and corpses and battle debris instead of pretty dresses and high class food. Pain flared across his stomach and chest as he moved, the deep scythe cut leaking blood through his shirt. The demon was on the floor, still moving but badly hurt and Ron felt a surge of triumph, even with their injuries there was no way they could fail now! The deserter was a bigger threat than expected yes, but Ron had absolute confidence that Grell could take him, now she knew he carried a death scythe with him. The ship was sinking but there was still enough time, they weren’t beaten yet!_

_He shouted that he’d take the demon out of the equation, he knew his limits, and Grell was the better fighter, so she could take the old guy, he’d just clean up the trash. Bassy was injured anyway, and he hadn’t put up too much of a fight earlier, so he’d be simple to deal with. Really, watching the demon weakly coughing up a handful of blood, Ron actually felt a little bad, the demon hadn’t even tried to eat any souls...ah well, it was his job as a Reaper to see off any demons right?_

_Before he could even finish that train of thought though, the demon was upon him. Ron, taken by absolute surprise, belatedly swung his scythe around to ward off the attack but was far far too slow. The demon seemed to be moving faster than ever, and the blows it was dealing were edged with pure malice. Suddenly, the demon had turned from the ‘Bassy darling’ that Grell would bubble on about to a cold and ruthless monster, unstoppable and unconcerned with mercy or pity. It grabbed Ron by the front of his shirt and he stared at its glowing red eyes, alight with the promise of violence._

_“You may want to reassess your definition of ‘weak’” He practically purred and Ron’s heart rate shot up with terror. Now he understood why so many Reapers were wary of taking a full powered demon on in a head to head fight, how arrogant had he been to assume he could so easily dispatch a demon that had defeated Grell once already...he felt himself flying back, away from the demon and crashed into another form. He knew that he had been almost entirely helpless and outmatched in that fight, that the demon could have ended his life easily but had deliberately chosen to simply throw him across the room. Everything hurt, and he looked up to see Grell staring at him, frustration battling with concern. Looking aside he could see Undertaker moving away to safety and he understood, the demon had used him to stop Grell from bringing in the fugitive. Because he hadn’t been able to cope with one demon, he’d just lost them the criminal they’d been trying to apprehend. Then the water crashed in and everything went dark._

Ron rolled over in his bed and buried his face in his pillow. No surprise he was having that particular nightmare again, just another time he’d been useless and overconfident and had made everything worse. Couldn’t handle Bassy long enough to let Grell capture the Undertaker and now couldn’t move fast enough to assist Grell the one time she really needed him, and now he wasn’t ever going to get another chance to make up for it. He glanced listlessly at his alarm clock, five thirty in the morning. He’d be up in half an hour to get ready for work anyway...wait, no...Will had told him not to come in today, to take a day to recover from it all. As if he needed the recovery time; his injuries were almost entirely fixed now, and the thought of spending an entire day sitting in his tiny little flat and running over yesterday in his mind was enough to make him feel ill. He needed to work, needed the distraction from his own thoughts and the constant, never ending nagging guilt that was sitting heavily enough in his stomach to make him feel sick. He should have been able to do something, anything!

Unable to face staying in bed any more, the Reaper pulled himself upright and began to mechanically go about preparing for his day. The motions were so practised that he didn’t need to think about them anymore and the routine helped comfort Ron a little, it felt almost normal again. He didn’t think he could cope with breakfast though, and simply headed straight into the office early, praying that Will would give him enough complex jobs today that he might stop thinking. Also that he wouldn’t be too cross Ron was ignoring his order to take today off...

*****

“Knox? What are you doing here?”

Dammit, of course Will would be in work this early, Ron had been hoping to pick up his paperwork and be already engrossed in it by the time his supervisor came around. Then he’d be far less likely to send him back home. He rubbed the back of his neck as Will frowned at him, adjusting his glasses.

“Sorry sir, I just thought you might need me in today...”

“While I admire your unexpected diligence Knox, you were granted a day off work in order to recover from yesterday’s events. You should be spending your time at home, not the office.”

“I know Mr Spears, and I do appreciate being given the time...but you’ll be overworked without me here right?” 

“While we will be two Reapers down,” and that sentence was like a small extra stab to the gut, “we will be able to manage perfectly well while you recover.”

“I don’t need time off to recover sir, my injuries are all but healed, and even the doctor said I’d be physically fit by now!”

“It’s not a matter of being physically fit Knox,” Will sighed. “You went through a traumatic event, it’s only reasonable that you take some time away from Dispatch to properly process it all.”

“I’m perfectly capable of getting along with my work...”

“Your ability isn’t under question here. I know you can do the work, however, you shouldn’t be doing the work right now.” Will turned to the ancient old coffee maker in the main office, staring at it as though he could speed up the production of coffee through sheer force of will. “Take the time off Knox, go and talk with people, process what happened. There will be plenty of time for work tomorrow.”

“With all due respect sir, I don’t want to just be sitting at home today, I appreciate you giving me the time off, but I really just need to be at work today.” 

“Knox...”

“Please sir. I’ll just do paperwork if that’s all you’ll let me do; I just can’t be sitting at home alone right now.” Pride be blown, Ron needed permission here and if begging was the only way to get it then he wasn’t too proud to simply plead. And Will looked like he was wavering, Ron pressed his case further. “I’ll just get on with the forms and files and everything, and if I do need to go I will, I won’t make a fuss or anything, but I’m better off being a little bit useful at least?”

“Fine.” Will sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It was far too early to be dealing with this, and he had not had enough sleep to cope with trying to control a determined Knox. It would probably be easier to have him here anyway, it would save Will the bother of having to make sure he was recovering well, and he could inform him of the investigation quietly. “No reaping, you can stay in here and do some filing if you’re so eager to work.” He straightened his glasses, took his freshly brewed cup of coffee and walked briskly straight back to his office.

Ron breathed a sigh of relief and moved towards his desk. As he did so he couldn’t help glancing over to the door of Grell’s office. He paused, feeling a sudden pain in his chest. Someone had placed a single red rose just inside her opened door. The bright colour stood out starkly against the white flooring, a memorial to a colleague lost in a dangerous line of work. Half of Ron hated it, the reminder that she was gone, that people were mourning her, but the other half of him was quietly pleased to see such an open sign that Grell had been loved and appreciated. People were mourning her, they missed her and wanted her back no matter how difficult she could sometimes be to work with, she was still one of theirs.


	4. Chapter 4

This was probably not a good way of dealing with everything, but it was Eric’s usual way of coping with his emotions. He signalled the barkeep and received another pint of mediocre beer to add to his collection. Alan would be annoyed at him, he hated when Eric stayed out late in the mortal realm and he hated it when he came home smelling of alcohol. He sighed, he never wanted to disappoint Alan and depending on how much he’d drunk Will would be irritated at him as well. He should stop now, and go back home, eat something, apologise to Alan for leaving him alone tonight and get an early night so the hangover wasn’t too bad tomorrow. Overshadowing those nice sane sensible thoughts however, was the broiling festering rage that simmered throughout every inch of his body. His fist clenched as he thought about it. Grell being gone was an affront to the universe, they had always been the most alive person he knew, nothing had ever got them down, they’d fought back no matter what life threw at them, laughing all the while. Now they were gone and weren’t coming back? It was just unfair, utterly stupid and pointless and Eric was left feeling helpless and angry. How dare Grell leave him like this? How dare they just be gone, so quickly and suddenly?

The drink had vanished without him even noticing and he raised his hand for another. Wasn’t alcohol supposed to numb your feelings? It just felt like the world was getting blurrier around him but all the pain and rage he was trying to contain was just getting hotter and louder inside. It wasn’t fair! This wasn’t supposed to happen! He glared at the fresh drink the barkeep slid him as though it was to blame for the whole situation. Well, it might not be the cause, but it certainly wasn’t helping him like it was supposed to! He threw the pint down in almost one swallow, growling out a curse as it slopped down his chest. A burst of laughter behind him caught his attention and he turned around to glower at the noisy revellers. Couldn’t they shut up and leave a man to his drinking? Looking back around he saw the barkeep had anticipated him and there was already a new drink in front of him. He vaguely wondered how much he’d had already. Probably enough to leave a human comatose...it was a good thing Reapers were a bit sturdier than that wasn’t it? Or maybe a bad thing...meant he could go on drinking for much longer. But no matter how much he drank; the sheer fact that his friend, his mentor once upon a time, had died in some dark and miserable cellar without him there to stop it happening and the anger at that, was just not going away.

The noise behind him was growing again, one last little trigger on the temper he’d been trying to hold in all day, through pointless reaps and infuriating paperwork, having to walk past Grell’s office and see the flowers there slowly growing, an endless mocking reminder of their death...trying not to snap at the younger Reapers when they’d blanked on simple questions, or fight with Will when he found fault with everything Eric was doing. He’d even found himself growing annoyed with Ron and Alan for just looking so bloody miserable all the time! Which had made it quite clear to him that he needed to remove himself from the vicinity of everyone he didn’t want to upset and deal with his anger by himself. Hence the bar, hence the drinking and hence his frustration that nothing seemed to be working, and the idiots behind him were only getting louder and more obnoxious! Pushed past his limit he stood up and stormed over to them.

“Will you lot shut your mouths! Can’t a man have a drink in peace anymore! Can’t even think straight with you being so damned loud!”

“Wha-“

“Is he talkin’ aboot us?”

“What yer problem mate?”

“You shut yer mouth!”

The responses were instant, varied and slurred. The dozen or so men were staggering to their feet to stand against the stranger, drunk anger plain to read on their faces and Eric cracked a completely humourless smile. The sound of bottles being hastily stashed away out of danger by the barkeep was music to his ears. Drinking hadn’t helped the anger at all; maybe it was time to just let it out!

“Come on then you lot! Or are you really as useless as you seem? Jus’ one man here! Come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough!”

The steadily decreasing sensible portion of his brain pointed out that Alan and Will were definitely going to be furious with him tomorrow, but he really couldn’t bring himself to care right now.

*****

 

Eric wasn’t back yet. Alan sighed, it was hardly unexpected, he’d seen how the other Reaper had been (not) coping with the atmosphere at work today and when Eric was forced to confront emotions he didn’t like and couldn’t do anything to fix he got surly and retreated. It was hardly something he could blame him for, Alan supposed, but it did rather leave him alone. He knelt in front of Grell’s office, tidying the latest bunch of roses into a vase. Leaning back on his heels he looked around, there were already five vases full of flowers, and an assortment of candles as well. Someone, Alan had a sneaking suspicion it was Will, had put a framed picture of her in the centre of it all; surrounded by proof of how much she’d been cared about.

Roses were by far the most common flower, and mostly red as well, Grell’s adoration for the colour was hard to miss after all. But there was a collection of purple hyacinths to one side, and a single beautiful forget-me-not in its own little vase. Alan wasn’t fluent in flower language, but he was aware that hyacinths meant regret and loss, and well, the meaning of the forget-me-not was rather obvious. Absently he swept up a few fallen petals and returned to staring at the picture. It had been taken only a few years ago and Grell was laughing, her glasses slipping down her nose, her hair in its usual loose mane of fire. She looked happy. Grief welled up again in him, the same waves of desolation that had been affecting him all day. It was an almost physical pain in his chest, a hollow feeling that left him weak and listless. After his death and rebirth, he’d assumed that he would be safe from the overwhelming feeling of loss, that as a Reaper, they were safe from death; after all, they’d all already been through it once. That supposition had been proven wrong repeatedly however and yet each time it took him by surprise. He’d never worried about losing Grell before, she was tougher than practically everyone, came through each and every calamity she got involved in with a laugh and a suggestive comment. Nothing had fazed her, she’d survived demons, paperwork, bizarre dolls, fights and everything the afterlife had flung at her with aplomb. But now she was gone, and Alan already missed her. 

The flowers were all arranged now, placed in vases that would allow their beauty to last just that bit longer. Grell’s monument would not be prone to decay and death if Alan could help it. It might be all he could do for her now, make sure that the little shrine built up was in good condition, but he could do that much. There were so many flowers; so many people had missed her it seemed. He hadn’t realised just how important she’d been to so many Reapers around the departments; there was a rose with a tag on it from the forensics department, and the small origami swan was probably from Scythes...a lot of the flowers he’d seen placed here by the young trainees and he still maintained it had been their cold and apparently unfeeling head of department who’d made sure there was a good photograph of Grell in here when the flowers had started piling up.

“You’re missed Grell Sutcliff.” He told the photograph quietly, standing up and preparing to head home. No doubt he’d have to deal with a hung-over and hurting Eric in the morning; he was definitely going need as much sleep as possible to help with that.

 

*****

 

Mr Spears had told him not to, told him that dwelling on it and over thinking would only make it worse and he should just focus on himself and his work right now, not on the past but Ron couldn’t help it. He was back at home, curled up in his ratty old armchair and reading through his report again and again. The paper was becoming creased with how often he’d shuffled through them, reading the same lines over and over. In truth he wasn’t sure what he was so desperately searching for in his own report; he knew what had happened, he’d been there and this was literally his description of what had happened! He sighed and flipped back to the beginning, reading through the clinical terms describing the entire incident. Phrases jumped out at him

‘a decision to divide our forces between Reaping and defending’

‘due to uncertain terrain minor injuries accrued’

‘temporary loss of spectacles allowed the demon an advantage’

‘joint effort to banish the demon rather than return to the realm’

‘despite best attempts no rescue was able to be effected’

Every sentence was making him feel worse than the one before it, and yet he couldn’t stop reading it. Raising one hand to scrub at his eyes he squinted at the clock on the wall. It was far too late to be still doing this; he was back in work tomorrow and Will would not be going easy on him, not with the investigation hanging over both their heads. That particular reminder made him curl up tighter on the chair, dread settling comfortably throughout him. He’d been flabbergasted when Will told him there was an investigation being undertaken into the actions of himself, Will and even Grell herself. As though Grell or Will were to blame for what had happened. No, Ron knew exactly who was to blame for it, it was laid out in stark black and white in his own report and he couldn’t stop reading it over and over again.

If only he had been just a moment faster he could have reached her, pulled her back out the gate. If he hadn’t lost his footing he could have stopped her getting grabbed in the first place, if he’d been faster at soul collecting maybe Grell would have been fresher and would have been able to dodge, if he had just managed to hang onto his glasses she might not have been injured and could have fought back better. If only, if only, if only! No matter how he looked at it, how desperately he wanted it not to be true, it was as clear as day that this was all entirely his fault. He’d been slow and stupid and just not good enough and now Grell had paid the ultimate price for his incompetence. He just wanted to go back and fix it, rectify his mistakes and fix everything. Then Grell wouldn’t be gone and Will wouldn’t be being investigated and he wouldn’t be sitting in his armchair feeling like the lowest and meanest creature to have ever crawled on the ground. Ron hadn’t prayed for years, certainly not since his rebirth as a Reaper, but he felt a temptation greater than he had in so long, just to pray and have all of this go away, be all some bad dream brought on by a concussion or too much alcohol, he’d give anything to go back to yesterday and fix it.

He sniffed and raised a hand to scrub at his eyes, thankful for once that he lived alone and there was no one to laugh at how badly all this was affecting him. He might feel like everyone was judging him and despising him, but at least he could retreat back home and pretend that they weren’t. Shoving the papers away onto the table he climbed to his feet, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders like a cape as he headed to his bed, at least in sleep he might be able to forget this had all happened. For a little while he could be back to normal.

 

*****

 

The demon had switched its monstrous multi legged form for that of a breath-takingly beautiful young man dressed in some sort of mock knight’s armor. His hair was long and golden yellow, fluttering in the sea breeze; his eyes were deep blue and danced with light and laughter, cherubic cheeks and a smile with a gorgeous little dimple in one corner. None of it was having any impact on Grell, who far preferred dark cold figures whose arrogance and cruel demeanour was absolutely intoxicating.

Really, it was almost insulting. Even if the demon had managed to choose a face that would attract her, did he really believe for a moment that it would make her hesitate? Or stop her from fighting at her full potential? If so he really knew very little about Reapers and nothing at all about her, she’d tried her utmost to kill Sebastian, who’s physical attributes were utter perfection, she was most certainly going to tear this second rate knock off product into tiny pieces. Her scythe cut through the air where he’s been with a growl and she swung around again to attack again as he leaped over her head, his shining sword flashing towards her head, to be casually knocked aside by the roaring chainsaw. Both fighters were moving at inhuman speeds, exchanging blows that cracked the very earth around them and pushing their bodies to the utmost limit in order to deal with one another.

Her chainsaw cut smoothly through his sword, but he pulled a fresh one from the scabbard hanging by his side, he sliced close enough to chop away some of her hair, she ignored it, a kick popped his knee out of position, he just realigned it and continued fighting, a blow sent her reeling back, she ignored the sharp pain of her broken ribs and threw herself into the battle even more furiously than before. Time was meaningless in hell, the light never changed, daybreak would never arrive and the sea lapped endlessly at the cliffs around. Grell had no idea how long she’d been fighting, or how long she would continue fighting and a small quiet voice in her head was pointing out that eventually she would need to rest and recover from her exhaustion and her injuries while the demon was perfectly capable of fighting on throughout eternity, reforming parts of his body that she attacked, never needing to sleep or eat or drink. In a war of attrition then she would come out a most definite loser. Already she could feel the numerous small hurts she’d accumulated beginning to slow her slightly. Her arm was very painful from the attack before she’d been pulled in here, she definitely had some broken ribs, her ankle had been twisted when he’d knocked her into a crumbling old wall and her entire body felt like it was bruised and scraped all over. She was horribly aware that it would take only one misstep, one rather more serious injury and she would be down, left entirely at his mercy. Needless to say she was not going to let that one misstep or injury happen, she was going to dispatch of this annoyance, relieve her pent up frustration with the whole situation, find a way out of here and get back to the Reaper realm where she so rightfully belonged and no pretty boy demon with a ridiculous looking sword was going to stop that happening!

Letting out a cry of feral rage and joy she managed to gain the advantage, grabbing the demon’s arm and shoving his sword out of the way while her death scythe cut deeply into him, rending through his flesh with ease and showering the ground in red red blood. He screamed and the sound was music to her ears, making her teeth widen and fresh strength and energy pound through her veins, yes! She was going to win, going to get out of this and back home and away from this nightmare of a place! She leaned her chainsaw even further, aiming to literally chop him in half and dispatch of him that way, when he decided to cheat. He vanished into a cloud of black smoke, the physical body he was wearing just fading out of reality and sending Grell falling forward in surprise, barely stopping herself from outright collapsing onto the rocky ground as she spun around, ready to attack a demon that just wasn’t there anymore. She was surrounded by a thick black mist that parted easily under the swings of her scythe, but effortlessly reformed once it was past. There was nothing solid to fight, nothing she could get a grip of. This was absolutely cheating and her eyes narrowed dangerously, she must remember not to underestimate her opponent.

“Are we getting scared already?” She called out, realising that her hands were shaking with tiredness and tightening her grip on her scythe to hide it. How long had they been fighting? Minutes? Hours? Days? There was just no way of knowing in this forsaken land.

“Scared? I don’t know the meaning of the word,” the demon’s voice seemed to come from all around her, echoing strangely.

“Really? I’ll simply have to each you it then won’t it? So if you could kindly jump back into a body so the learning process could begin.”

“You disappoint me reaper, resorting to childish taunts.”

“And you’ve resorted to simply not having a body, you’re so afraid I’ll win and destroy you aren’t you?”

“Hardly, I merely don’t want the fun to be over too soon.”

“Oh trust me, I’ll be having a lot of fun destroying you.”

“Not nearly as much fun-“ the voice suddenly became a lot more solid, coming from directly behind her and Grell started to turn, only to feel a sudden cold agony in her back. Disbelievingly she looked down at herself, seeing the end of the sword emerging cleanly from her stomach, coated in blood. The demon chucked darkly in her ear. “-as I’ll be having.” He finished.


	5. Chapter 5

The whispers and quiet comments and the looks seemed to be following Ron everywhere. A constant, underlying muttering of _‘is that him?’_ and _‘did he really’_ and _‘I can’t believe it!’_ Ignoring them and keeping his head down had a limited effect; he could practically feel the invasive curiosity and judgmental thoughts pressing in on him from all sides. Working next to Grell’s office was simply a constant reminder of what had happened, as the flowers multiplied and fresh photos and candles seemed to be added every time he looked over at it. Paperwork was completed without any conscious thought from him really, neat lines on white paper that held no meaning.

It seemed no time at all before he found himself changing into the best suit he owned, tying a tie tightly around his neck and leaving his scythe securely on his desk as Will walked with him to the Investigatory offices. Ron had never been here before, it was the sort of place that you avoided if you could. No one wanted to gain the attention of the grim faced grim Reapers who spent eternity investigating their comrades. Grell had been there, after the Ripper incident, and he remembered that she’d never once spoken about what had happened there or what her exactly her punishment had been.

Following Will down the clean featureless corridor, Ron took a glance at his supervisor. Will looked exactly the same as he always did; cold, emotionless and completely in control. Did the guy even care that he was being investigated for complicity in the death of someone he’d known for longer than Ron had been alive. Or unalive. Or whichever way you looked at it. He looked as though he was just on his way to another regular meeting, as though this was just another day in the office, absolutely no hesitation in his footsteps, no worry in his eyes, nothing. Not a scrap of genuine human emotion. He wondered just how much of it was an act; surely he had to have emotions, passions, cares and things somewhere in him? You couldn’t go through life feeling absolutely nothing, right?

They were reaching the large double doors at the end of the corridor now and Ron dragged his thoughts away from his senior and refocused them on his dread of what was going on. A drab looking Reaper with short grey hair greeted them and told them to sign in to the logbook. He looked old, how long had he been serving out his punishment as a Reaper? Gesturing for them to follow him he guided them to a small room with a row of chairs, some sort of waiting room. Ron almost groaned, more waiting? He just wanted to get this over and done with so he could go back to his job and eventually everything could go back to normal. Will sat down in one of the chairs, looking like he was perfectly willing and able to wait all day until he was called in but Ron didn’t think he could sit down, let alone sit still, and instead began pacing up and down the confined space, shooting looks at Will, the doors and the quietly ticking clock on the wall.

“What do you think they’re going to ask?” He said anxiously.

“I’m sure they will have a variety of questions for us.”

“Aren’t you worried at all about this, sir? It’s a pretty big deal after all!”

“I have confidence that the truth will be the main focus, and therefore I see no reason to be concerned by the situation.”

Ron was dubious about that, but before he had another chance to try speaking again, the door opened and the drab older Reaper came back, telling them the investigators were ready to see them now. The dread became a hot heavy weight in his chest all of a sudden, his throat closing up and his legs feeling weak and boneless. The room they were led into was large, featureless and white. A single long table dominated most of the room with seven Reapers sitting behind it, light glinting off their glasses as they studied Ron and Will. There were no windows and the lights were set too brightly for Ron’s taste, it made everything seem very...clinical, inhuman almost, as though he were a bug under a microscope. Coming to a halt in front of the table he could make out the paperwork each investigator had neatly arrayed in front of them. It looked like a copy of his report, and one of Will’s and personnel files for all three of them. The investigator sitting in the centre, directly opposite them glanced over at his companions and, upon receiving confirmatory nods, cleared his throat and began to speak. Ron swallowed and forced himself to pay the utmost attention to his words.

“Let the record state the commencement of the questioning of Dispatch Supervisor William Spears and Junior Dispatch Agent Ronald Knox as per the current investigation into the death of Senior Dispatch Agent Grell Sutcliff while on active duty. Please state your names for the record.”

“William T Spears.”

“R-Ronald Knox.”

“Are you both aware of why you have been summoned here?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you confirm that the reports submitted as to the incident in question are truthful and complete to the best of your knowledge?”

“I do.”

“Yes.”

“Very well. Let the record show we are opening the floor up to questions from all investigators. Investigators are reminded this is an information gathering session and not a trial, attempts to encourage confessions will be looked upon severely.” Ron noted with alarm that at least one of the Reapers in front of them looked visibly disappointed at that reminder, though personally he found the knowledge that this wasn’t going to be a kangaroo trial that would end up with both of them immediately dismissed from the Reaper organisation a good thing. The questions began coming thick and fast and Ron did his best to answer truthfully and in as much detail as he could remember, he didn’t want them to start thinking he was holding back, or trying to mislead them.

No, he hadn’t been aware there would be a demon there. Yes, the decision to stay and fight had been taken by them both. Senior Sutcliff had taken over most of the demon fighting because they were more skilled at combat than he was. No, they had not had any disagreements or fights beforehand. No, he hadn’t taken any specialised demonology classes while training but he was aware of the basics, including how the gates worked. His scythe was in perfect working order. Yes, he had tried to stop Senior Sutcliff from being taken. Yes, he had been injured but they were minor hurts and he had been cleared for duty the next day. Yes, he trusted that Senior Sutcliff had made the correct call as to their actions that date. Yes, he trusted Senior Sutcliff in general, and yes, he was aware of their previous...incidents. No, he did not think Senior Sutcliff had been drawing out the fight, or had allowed the demon to kill extra people. That question made him angry; did they really think she would do something like that? Thankfully the investigators seemed to consider they’d gathered all the answers they wanted from him and their attention shifted to Will. Ron breathed a sigh of deep relief and managed to relax a fraction. He glanced to the side and saw the drab Reaper who’d brought them in was transcribing the meeting. He gave Ron an encouraging nod when he caught his eye.

Will’s questions were more general than Ron’s had been, as the supervisor hadn’t been involved in the attack itself, the Investigators focussed more on how the Reap had been assigned and Grell and Ron's general work ethic. Will denied that there had been anything unusual about the Reap assignment; that he had chosen Grell and Ron as they worked well together and in any Reap with multiple souls to be collected it was only prudent to send more than one Reaper when there were sufficient staffing levels available. He confirmed that he had led a team to the site the moment he had heard what had happened, and that the results were included in his report. The line of questioning moved onto Grell herself and if she was a reliable staff member. Ron was concerned, everyone knew that Grell spent far too much of her time in efforts to annoy Will. But Will remained calm, stating that Grell was a valued member of the workforce, and that he had no hesitation in assigning her more complicated or emotionally difficult Reaps, or those which involved an element of peril.

The questions seemed to peter out a bit, and Ron would swear he could see disappointment in some of the Investigator’s expressions; they clearly hadn’t received the answers they’d been hoping for. He wondered if they were the same Reapers who had judged Grell after the Jack the Ripper incident. The lead Investigator looked around again.

“If there are no further joint questions?” Heads around the room were shaken. “Dispatch Agent Knox, please step back outside while we question Supervisor Spears privately.”

“What? Er...yes, of course.” Ron said, the feeling of dread welling up within him once more. What did they want to talk with Will for that they didn’t want him in to hear about? Nothing good, that was for certain. Even Will had looked a little surprised at the request, it obviously wasn’t a normal part of the procedures and Ron’s heart began hammering all the harder as he walked back towards the little waiting room. Was this it? Was this going to be the moment they told Will that they knew it had all been Ron’s fault for not being good enough and he was going to be removed from Dispatch, exiled to a dingy little office to do nothing but file paperwork all day? Or get imprisoned somewhere to wait out eternity? His imagination spitting scenarios at him, the young Reaper pushed open the door and sat down in one of the hard chairs kept out there, trying to stop his legs from trembling. All sound from the other room had been completely cut off when the door shut, all he could hear was the frantic pounding of his own heart as he stared at nothing, trying to think of nothing. 

A small squeaking noise suddenly caught his attention and he glanced down to see a tiny grate in the wall sliding open. Any distraction at all a welcome opportunity at this point, Ron stared at it. Judging from the position of the opening, it must be where the recorder had been sitting, the old one who’d been keeping the minutes, what was he up to? He’d seemed sympathetic enough to Ron and Will earlier...dropping to his knees, Ron leaned close to the little gap, and grinned as the faint sound of voices reached his ears. The old guy had been on his side! Or at least thought that Ron being left out was an injustice that he had to rectify. Ron crouched lower, straining his hearing to make out what was going on in there.

“-aware that you have been functioning as an effective supervisor despite a number of recent incidents that have been affecting your office.”

“If you are referring to the business with the deserter known as the Undertaker, then yes I am aware.”

“Good. Your handling of the matter has been noted with approval from those higher up.”

“I am glad to have been of service.”

“To speak frankly, Spears, we don’t want to lose a Reaper of your calibre. Very few of your compatriots have the required levels of discipline and focus to effectively manage the London branch at this point in time. The chronic understaffing levels combined with the...eccentricities of many of the Reapers working there have garnered you quite a reputation.”

“With all due respect, I fail to see what this has to do with the investigation.” Will replied. Ron blinked, he’d rarely heard his supervisor sound so cold.

“In short, Supervisor Spears, we have no desire to perform any actions which could lead to your loss to the Reaper hierarchy. We would prefer to keep you in your current position to maintain optimum efficiency in the office.”

“Your point being?”

“If you were to make a statement saying that the death of Mr Sutcliff was due to negligence on the parts of both himself and the junior Reaper working with her, we would guarantee acceptance of that report and halt the investigation. Your reputation would be maintained and you could return to your work.”

There was silence from Will and Ron felt like he’d been hit by a cart. They...they were honestly looking to blame it all on him and Grell just so that Will could carry on working effectively? What sort of shady, underhanded rotten deal was this! Anger curdled deep within him to be immediately replaced with a cold sense of horror; if Will agreed to this, then who would believe him if he tried to argue his case? The Investigator’s decision was final, he couldn’t appeal it, and he doubted anyone else would care enough to look into the matter. Ron’s whole career, his whole life, depended on Will deciding that the truth, and the reputation of his subordinates, was more important than his own career, and everybody who’d ever met Will knew that his work was the most important thing to him. Biting down a despairing laugh, Ron leaned closer, if he was going to be doomed anyway, he’d like to hear it from the horse’s mouth first so he might have a chance to prepare himself for it.

“Just to confirm, you would like me to implicate two of my Reapers; claim they are at fault for a demon attack that led directly to the death of Grell Sutcliff? For overconfidence, or by not retreating earlier?”

“To put it bluntly, and speaking off the record Supervisor Spears; we want what’s best for Reapers as a whole. While we do not usually condone acts of injustice like this, the Reaper organisation is still reeling after the Undertaker incidents, we cannot afford to allow confusion or further loss.”

“I see.”

“So what is your answer going to be?”

“If I may speak as frankly to you as you have done to me? I think that your offer is an appalling travesty of justice and you should be deeply ashamed of yourself for even considering the idea in the first place. As I stated in my report, Sir.” Will continued, his voice colder than an arctic storm. “I do not believe that there is any individual to blame for Sutcliff’s death. It was a tragedy and should be treated as such, not an opportunity to harass and demean other Reapers in a desperate attempt to assign blame for a hazard of our working lives. Yes, the loss is a great blow to our office and an investigation is a valid and important response. However, attempting to besmirch the name of a Reaper who died with honour and ruin the career of another promising agent is a deplorable way of dealing with the situation. That is my true belief about the matter and if it causes me to be demoted from my position, well then the position was never what I thought it was to begin with. So, with all due respect, my report will stand as it is.”

“.....This is your final answer? This opportunity will not be offered again.”

“It is.”

“Thank you for your time Supervisor Spears. You will be contacted when the Investigatory council has come to a conclusion.”

*****

 

It didn’t hurt. Grell stared at the end of the sword protruding from her guts and wondered why it wasn’t more painful, surely it should be agonising right? That would only make sense. But there was just a dull ache which managed to heighten the unreality of the situation. Here she was, in literal hell, fighting a demon and there was a sword stuck right through her body. It would be almost funny if it weren’t so ridiculous. Vaguely she watched a drop of her own blood roll off the sword and splash towards the ground, to be swallowed by the uncaring ground. It would probably go towards feeding the ominous seeming trees, she thought, or perhaps it would get washed out to the endless sea.

A hiss of triumph from the demon behind her and she felt the sword moving, being pulled back out of her. She could feel the metal sliding through her intestines, and there was the pain she’d been wondering about. The dull ache flared out into a hot blazing agony, tearing through her entire body and amplifying with each beat of her heart, every ragged breath she pulled into her lungs. Gasping, she fell to her knees, her legs suddenly unable to hold her weight. Her vision seemed to be greying out, but she could see the polished shoes of the demon as he stepped fastidiously around her kneeling form and crouched down to stare at her. She managed to muster enough strength to glare back, he had cheated! That had been an unfair move; she couldn’t turn into mist to stab people from behind! 

“And now look at you little Reaper.” He said smugly, golden hair perfectly arranged and gleaming white teeth flashing in a smile an angel would be jealous of. “Your punishment for daring to challenge a being such as myself is nearly complete. Your body will rot away here as I devour whatever remnant of soul a Reaper still has. I do wonder,” he pushed his face closer to hers, making her flinch backward and causing an extra flare of agony through her chest, “does a Reaper have a soul? After all, you died once, perhaps you’re nothing more than an animated corpse? A sick joke played upon humanity by an All Powerful being? Well, it’s of no matter to me, you interfered with my meal, forced me back out of the mortal realm and then dared to attack me! I’d say your death at my hand is well deserved.”

Rolling her eyes was probably a waste of energy, but without having the breath to speak it was the best way Grell had of showing her utter disdain of everything he thought and felt. Did he really think he was impressive right now? Or in any way intimidating? Honestly, Will was far more imposing than this scrawny creature preening himself. She raised a shaking hand to press lightly against the wound in her stomach. It wasn’t actually a mortal wound she realised with dull surprise. Probably would kill a human, but provided she got medical care soon enough, or at the very least a chance to rest and heal, she wouldn’t die. Unfortunately, in her current situation, being alive but helpless was possibly the worst outcome of all and a cold sliver of fear pierced through her chest.

“Are you actually ignoring me right now?” Sharp knuckles rapped on her forehead. “You really are an impudent creature aren’t you. Hasn’t anyone ever taught you it’s rude to ignore somebody who’s talking to you?”

“W-well...maybe t,t,try sayin’ somethin’ ‘nteresting...” 

“Oh my, are you still trying to put up a fight? It won’t do you the slightest scrap of good you know. I am a demon; I am not going to be swayed from enjoying my vengeance by some pathetic attempts at insults from an unnatural creature such like you. No, you’re going to die here little Reaper, alone and abandoned and hopeless and I am going to watch every moment of your last feeble clutches of this wretched existence of yours. I’m probably doing you a favour actually, hurrying you on to this mysterious ‘forgiveness’ of yours.”

She ignored him, a fact that seemed to be frustrating as he grabbed her roughly by the chin, forcing her to look at him. He was even worse looking up close, she decided, he clearly hadn’t taken too much time with this body and once you were right next to him, it looked awfully fake. The skin was waxy and too smooth and the eyes looked more like a dolls eyes than those of a living human being. The whole effect made him even more unpleasant than the monstrous form he’d fought her with earlier. Contemplating this Grell noticed something interesting, the light was changing. It had been the same silvery moonlit light ever since they’d crashed down here, never changing with the passage of time but now a dull red tinge was colouring the air behind the demon. Interesting...

“-and that is why you should stay in your own area of expertise, and stop interfering with others.” Oh, was he still talking? Grell had honestly stopped paying attention, distracted both by the pain throughout her body and the steadily increasing light behind the demon. If it was what she thought it was...a thin tendril of hope rose up inside her, small but powerful. Maybe she still had a chance. She set her jaw determinedly, no matter how slim the hope, how impossible the challenge, she would not give up and lie down to die here! She would grab hold of that spider web thin strand of hope and claw her way out of hell!

It must have been that one human who’d survived, he’d taken the book with him, and now the fool was once again trying to summon a demon, hadn’t he learnt from last time? Watching people get slain around him as though they were insects and he still thought playing with hellfire was a good idea? Well, she couldn’t really complain she supposed, it might just prove to be her salvation that a human was desperate enough for power to go to this length to get it. The gateway was forming now, and the demon paused, obviously realising that something was happening. Grell clenched her jaw, planted her feet and launched herself forward, bowling the demon over as she forced her agonised body into a dead sprint towards the light that was forming the familiar symbol of the demon’s gateway. Behind her there was a roar of fury and she knew she had mere seconds to get through. Her body screamed at her but she ignored it, it didn’t understand the gravity of her situation, if she wasn’t fast enough, if the demon caught her, if the portal didn’t open fully, if she fell now... She jumped for the portal, the demon so close behind her she could feel its breath on the back of her head as she forced her way back onto the mortal plane. She would not die here!


	6. Chapter 6

Grell tumbled out of the portal, hitting a smooth cold surface face first and immediately crawling forward, out of the way of the demon inevitably following after her. She looked around frantically, trying to get her bearings, after the cold stillness of hell, there was far too much noise and movement and it seemed almost pitch black here, a far cry from the white cold light that had illuminated the battle between her and her foe. There was stone beneath her knees and people screaming and shouting all around her and Grell ignored it all as she toppled off whatever alter she’d appeared on and fell heavily to the floor, rolling until she fetched up against a wall of some sort. Breathing harshly and biting her lip to stop herself from shrieking as her abused body reacted to her sudden movements Grell finally took a look around, now where was she?

Another cellar it transpired, she didn’t know why she was surprised at this, it looked almost identical to the last one...small, cramped, lit by several torches held in brackets on the wall and with chains hanging from the ceiling. Wait...she frowned again at the altar, and then at several deep scars running around the room, this was the exact same place! No wonder it looked familiar...

The demon was forcing himself through the gate now, and the gathered humans were beginning to scream and shout and panic in their usual ridiculous manner. They were the ones who’d just completed an entire unholy ritual in order to summon a demon, and now that a demon had actually shown up they were surprised? Thankful that she’d stayed invisible and therefore the humans hadn’t responded to her coming through the portal, Grell returned her attention to trying to get out of the way of the rampaging beast, he’d been hard enough to fight the first time, with him this furious and as badly hurt as she was, she didn’t stand a chance, and once he’d dispatched the humans he’d no doubt turn back to her for entertainment; which was rather the opposite of what Grell wanted right now. Unfortunately she’d come down in a corner of the room and there were no easy exits within reach that wouldn’t require trying to weave between panicking humans or take her too close to where the demon was currently crushing some poor body against a wall. A quick check of her energy levels immediately told her she couldn’t simply jump to the Reaper Realm and she was not going to be able to run away. Perhaps her best bet was to try simply lying here as though she were dead herself? The humans couldn’t see her, but would the demon be able to? It would be a risk but she didn’t see any better option right now...

There weren’t very many humans left now...there must have been twenty or so when the ritual begun, and now there was only one left, the slim young man still clutching a book to his chest like it would protect him from the hulking form of the demon standing over him, multiple legs gouging lines in the stonework, inky black poison dripping from its mouth and dozens of eyes swivelling madly in all directions.

“Then I choose to make a deal! You _will_ serve me demon!” The boy was shouting now and Grell did roll her eyes this time, honestly, of all the demons to choose to sell your soul to... this kid clearly had no taste at all. The demon looked frustrated; its head turning to scan the nearby area periodically and Grell had a worrying idea of what precisely he was looking for and shrank down lower to the floor.

“Answer me demon!” The head turned again, to regard the trembling figure in front of him and Grell held her breath. If the demon accepted this offer then he’d leave and she’d be safe, but if it chose to reject the offer for some reason it would be free to rampage until someone came and put it down, and well, its first target was right in front of it.

“I accept the offer. I shall serve you, Master, until the end.” It said formally, the smooth voice sounding very odd coming from the hideous form it had chosen. It seemed to melt downwards, taking on the form of the heroic looking blond knight that Grell had fought earlier. “Shall we discuss the terms?” He offered, holding out a hand. The summoner hesitated and then took it, sealing his fate. A black smoke seemed to rise up from the floor and the pair vanished, off to go and negotiate the contract that would lead to the man getting his soul ripped from his body and devoured by an unholy nightmare.

Her head thunked back down onto the stone floor in sheer relief. They were gone, she’d done it! She almost felt like laughing hysterically, she had survived! It really hadn’t seemed possible, but now he was gone, and if she could just get out of here, rest up enough to get back home then she would be entirely safe. She was alive...and she hadn’t thought that was a possibility up until this very second.

A coupe of the humans still seemed to be alive, Grell could hear some whimpering and someone sobbing and then a thought struck her and she painstakingly raised her head again. There were several bodies lying around the room, which meant people had died here, which meant-

The first body exploded into a mass of light as the cinematic reel was released, a dark haired woman wielding a pitchfork standing over it with the glow from the reels reflecting off her glasses and Grell felt a grin spread across her face. Somehow, seeing another Reaper, another member of her species, was just about the most comforting thing she could possibly imagine right now. Another body burst into light, followed by a third; just how many Reapers had been sent out here? At least three, and another one standing by the door actually...and one more over by the portal? Five Reapers for, Grell counted quickly, three bodies? That didn’t seem right, even with a demon involved she’d never known more than three Reapers to get assigned to a job like this, usually two and it wasn’t unheard of for a single Reaper to have to deal with something like this by themselves. So why were so many Reapers here?

“All done boss?” One of the younger looking ones called, Grell thought he was called Forleigh or something. The souls had been collected at a far faster speed than she’d expected and now all the Reapers were beginning to gather in the centre of the room. Grell opened her mouth to call out to them, but a spike of pain robbed her of her voice, and none of them seemed to hear her over the sound of their own footsteps.

“Yeah, all looks good.”

“And the demon’s gone,” was that Alan? Grell thought, trying to push herself up a little to try and gain their attention. “So we should probably get out of here now, before anything else happens.” He looked over to the taller Reaper still staring intently at the symbol painted on the wall and used to summon the beast here. “Right, Eric?”

“Huh?”

“We should leave, the demon’s gone now and the souls have all been collected.”

“Oh, right. Yes, go on, get back and drop your reports off.” The younger Reapers seemed only too happy to follow that order; Grell hadn’t seen fully qualified Reapers this jumpy in a long time. Eric turned back to his staring at the wall and Alan stepped over to him. Grell forced her body to move, despite its complaints, dragging herself painfully to her knees and then pausing, jaw clenched as she fought back a wave of nausea; she was fairly certain that if she threw up now, the shock and pain would just make her pass out, and then Alan and Eric would jump back without even noticing her and she’d be stuck here until the demon decided to come back.

“Eric?” Alan was saying gently.

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to come back? The others have already returned...you can’t stay here, you know what Will said.”

“It was the _same_ demon Alan! I recognised the bloody symbol! An’ now we can’t go after it just ‘cos it’s got a Master and all and it’s going to get away with, with _that!”_

“Eric...” Alan said, but the other man wasn’t listening.

“It’s not enough that we have to live with them being gone, now the bloody beast that did it gets to swan around in the human world, gettin’ a soul and everything it wanted and Will won’t even let us get any revenge! Does he even have the _faintest_ idea how that feels, Alan? How can he ask us to just leave it be! Like it was _nothing,_ like _they_ were nothing...”

“I know Eric, don’t you think I don’t miss her too? But getting yourself killed going and looking for demons to fight isn’t going to help anyone.”

Grell kept quiet for now, frowning as she tried to follow their conversation, who had died? What was going on in the Reaper realm? She almost felt like she was intruding, but it was hardly like she was capable of leaving to give them some privacy at the moment.

“Alan...” Eric turned away from the symbol at last, towards the smaller Reaper. “I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t hurting as well...” 

“I know Eric...I just, if you keep going on like this...after that fight at the bar you were in the infirmary for _two days!_ I don’t want to be putting flowers on your shrine next.”

“Al....” Eric looked stricken, stepping forward and reaching out to grab Alan by the shoulder. “I never... I didn’t mean to...”

“I _know_ Eric, I know...but you always go too far when something upsets you...don’t do something you can’t come back from...” 

Eric made to reply to Alan again, before his eyes slid past him towards where Grell was still kneeling in the rubble, watching them. He went as white as a sheet and Grell belatedly remembered she was completely covered in blood and dirt and probably looked rather like one of the other corpses scattered about. She raised an eyebrow at him. Alan frowned and turned to see what had spooked Eric so much, his gaze immediately falling on Grell as well. He gave a strangled sort of shout, stepping backwards and tripping over his own feet, crashing into Eric, who caught him automatically, both of them still staring at Grell.

As amusing as it was to watch both of them act like they’d seen a literal ghost, it was hardly a very useful reaction to the situation, honestly, she’d expected a little more sympathy and aid from them. She did get that they weren’t expecting to find her here but really! They were acting like... she’d... been.... killed.... oh. Oh, that made sense actually. Ah.

“Grell?” Alan managed to choke out at last, “How are you, I mean, why, what?” He stammered, scythe appearing in his hand as though to defend himself from a newly risen ghost. Grell couldn’t resist, despite the breathlessness that came from having a lung with a hole in it, and the light headedness from blood-loss she managed to crack a grin.

“I...Is that a scythe-in your hand? Or, ah, are you...just pleased t’see me?”

Eric made an odd choked sound and rushed forward, almost knocking Alan over as he leapt across the room towards Grell, who did her best to smile up at him. His reached for her, hands hovering over by her shoulders for a moment before he pulled her against him, hugging her like he was afraid she was going to vanish if he let go. Grell flinched a little as he pressed against the wound on her chest but leaned forward into the hug all the same, the feeling of Eric’s strong arms around her infinitely more comforting than she could have imagined after her sojourn in hell, reminding her that she was here, alive and safe once more. Rushing footsteps indicated that Alan was coming too, and she felt another pair of arms wrap around her and Eric and heard a slightly disbelieving laugh.

“Of course you would be here...you came back through didn’t you?” Eric was saying, pulling out of the hug a little so he could look at her face, drinking in the sight of Grell here, alive and safe! Then his eyes dipped downwards and the smile slipped off his face, seeing the wound in her chest. “Christ Grell...” He murmured. Grell nodded, leaning slightly against Alan and shivering, exhaustion beginning to set in as she registered that she was finally safe.

“Yeah...” She said.

“We need to get you to the infirmary, right away.” Eric’s voice had regained its confidence and urgency, much better than the defeated and sorrowful voice he’d been using with Alan earlier, Grell decided. “Can you jump?” He asked and she shook her head, really, did he think she would have stayed here so long if she could jump? She wasn’t quite that mad, not yet at least.

“I’ll tell Will what’s happened.” Alan volunteered, wiping at his eyes. “He should know... _god_ Grell... I’m so glad you’re here, and, um, not dead.” He winced at his own words, they were rather awkward but the sentiment was sincere, and gave her hand one last squeeze before leaping to his feet and jumping away. Grell smiled fondly after him before hissing in surprised pain as Eric lifted her into his arms.

“Sorry, sorry!” He said quickly. “Didn’t mean to startle you there,” 

“Y-you’d better not have...” Grell replied, breathing shallowly through her nose. The last of the adrenaline was fading out now, and everything was beginning to hurt more, fatigue dragging at every thought but kept aware by the burning fire somebody seemed to have replaced her blood with and the explosion of agony every time she breathed. Slowly and carefully she relaxed into Eric’s warm hold. He waited until she nodded before beginning the jump, not wanting to hurt her any more than he had to.


	7. Chapter 7

Grell slowly opened her eyes. Everything ached, but it also felt distant at the same time, as though she wasn’t quite attached to her body and the pain was behind a wall of some sort. Her mouth was dry and her eyelids felt as though they had a metric ton of glue holding them shut, but a bit of determined effort managed to pry them open and allowed her to look around. Well, she certainly wasn’t in hell any more...judging by the sheer amount of white everywhere she was back in the Reaper Realm, and judging by the pain permeating most of her she was most likely in the infirmary. She sighed, she was a far more frequent guest in here than she would prefer.

She shifted slightly, trying to sit up on the uncomfortable bed. Her whole body ached, but the burning agony had faded, modern medicine working its usual miracles then, she noted as she awkwardly reached over to the bedside table, feeling around for her glasses, it would be nice to see more than a white blur around her. Searching fingers tapped against the frame and she pulled them over, sliding them onto her face and blinking as her vision adjusted. A glance down showed bandages wrapped tightly around her torso and more around her wrist and arm, most of the smaller cuts and scraped and been cleaned and left open to heal however. As her eyes travelled along the length of her body a dark figure to the side of the bed came into vision, she turned and saw Will, sprawled uncomfortably in a chair, an open book on his lap and his head tilted back, breathing deeply in sleep.

His hair was mussed and even while he was sleeping there was a faint frown on his face. Grell stared, completely caught off guard by this, what was Will doing here? Waiting for her? But...he’d _never_ done anything like that before. He must have been here for hours, going by how rumpled he looked, a far cry from his usual perfectly put together self and for him to lower his guard enough to actually fall asleep in a semi public setting...

As she watched he shifted slightly, one leg stretching out from its cramped position and jostling the notebook he must have been writing in, causing it to slide off his lap and towards the floor. Grell reached for it automatically, she didn’t want him to wake just yet, not if he was that tired, but her movements were still rather slow and sluggish and the book fell noisily to the ground. Will jumped visibly; head snapping up as he blinked around blearily and one hand reaching out to summon his scythe before he seemed to recall where he was. He sighed and reached up to adjust his glasses before glancing over to where Grell was watching him and freezing.

“Sutcliff?” His voice was rough with sleep and he stared at her as though she were about to vanish on him. Grell opened her mouth to reply, only to break into a minor coughing fit as she realised just how dry her throat and mouth were. Seconds later a glass of water was being pressed into her hands, someone helping steady it as she sipped the cool liquid greedily.

“Will,” She smiled at him once the water was finished, watching him put the glass back on the table where her spectacles had been. “What brings a handsome man like you into my room while I sleep?”

“You were unconscious, not asleep.”

“A minor difference,” She waved a hand dismissively.

“A fairly major difference surely, and this is the infirmary, not exactly your bedchamber.” Will said. Grell was delighted to note he was looking a bit flustered now, reaching up to adjust his glasses again. “I was merely concerned for the wellbeing of one of my staff-“

“You were concerned for little old me?” Grell said, the words were teasing but the question was genuine, and the emotion behind it was real.

“Well...” Will hedged, looking away again. “We’ve never had a Reaper come back through a portal to hell before, it seemed only prudent to make sure there was someone there to check on you when you awoke...your injuries were fairly traumatic and it seemed sensible to have someone familiar here.”

“And so you took the task on yourself?” She smiled up at him. “Oh I’m _definitely_ not complaining darling, it’s simply nice to see some genuine human emotion out of you after all this time.”

“I have emotions,”

“Yet you continue to act like you don’t,” He seemed to delight in being as cold and inhuman as he could be. “But if it takes being literally dragged to hell and back to get them out of you, it will have definitely been worth it.”

“Sutcliff...”

“You know...hell really wasn’t like I was expecting,” She said, a little too quickly, feeling her throat tighten again, eyes darting away from Will to look at the door, the ceiling, the wall, “I mean yes, the demon was expected, but it was actually quite a pretty little place you know? I wasn’t expecting that, and I _certainly_ wasn’t expecting to come back out of it.” She laughed, the noise high and sharp. It was hard to actually process the fact that she was free now, that she wasn’t about to die. “I was quite resigned to meeting my end there, at the hands of a pathetic demon who had to resort to treachery to get the drop on me, and he wasn’t even good looking-“

Her rambling was cut off as Will leaned forward, grabbing her hands in his, she stared down at their joined hands, shocked out of her thoughts, Will was holding her? He’d never...

“Sutcliff... _Grell,_ it’s alright.” She looked up to meet his eyes, startled at the amount of compassion in his voice, his eyes were warm and earnest as he met hers. “You got out. You escaped, I don’t think anyone else could possibly have done what you did, to come back from something like that.”

“I...”

“I thought you were gone, you realise. You’ve been gone for just under a week. That was six days of having to work with your absence, and do you know what Grell, I realised I _missed_ you?” Will said, squeezing her hands slightly as Grell stared at him, mouth falling open in disbelief. “I found I missed the constant aggravation of you, the comments, the noise, the sheer life you bring to the office. You’re a nuisance Grell, but you’ve been a thorn in my side for so long now, I can’t imagine not having you there.” He was speaking a little faster than usual, as if he wanted to get the words out now, before the moment passed.

“Will...I...you...” She tried to say, blinking back a sudden heat in her eyes. Had she actually died? There was no way the cold heartless man she’d worked with for so long was telling her he missed her, he valued her, it just wasn’t possible.

“I’m sorry it took your presumed death to make me realise that.” He said, and smiled at her. Grell stared up at him, still disbelieving. “And I’m relieved that you’re back. I have far too few friends as it is.”

Alright, she was definitely dead, or possibly hallucinating. Grell drew in a shaky breath and pushed her glasses up so she could wipe at her eyes, vaguely relieved she wasn’t wearing make up for once, wouldn’t do to have it running. Will cared? Will was admitting that he’d missed her, was calling her friend?

“I don’t know what to say...that’s a first Will, you’ve rendered me speechless.” She said, looking up at him with a watery smile. “I’m sorry you were worried, and was I really gone that long? There was no real way of judging there, I didn’t know. But...thank you Will. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.” She was beginning to flag a little, her body was still recovering after all, and going through so many emotions had been far more exhausting than she’d thought possible. Not that she’d have given up this conversation for all the rest in the world. Will stood, bending to lift up the book.

“There’s no need to thank me for telling the truth Sutcliff, although don’t spread it around the office please, I do have a reputation to uphold.” That made Grell grin, Will’s reputation as an emotionless mask of a man was one she had always known was fake, but many of the junior Reapers were quite convinced were real, and therefore encouraged them not to do anything to upset him, believing he would show no mercy.

“Don’t worry Will, I shall keep this conversation locked in the treasure chest of my heart.”

“See that you do, Sutcliff. I shall go and fetch the doctor, I expect you’ll be staying here for a little longer, your injuries were quite severe.”

“Hmmm.” She blinked at him, feeling the tiredness tugging her back under once more. As she closed her eyes again she felt him bend over and the feather light touch of his hand against her cheek before she drifted away, an empty place in her chest that she’d never thought to fill feeling whole once more.

 

*****

 

Ron shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, trying to hide the fact that they were still shaking as he headed down the corridor towards the reception. He must have made this journey about ten times already, only to be told the same news each time, that there was no change, that Grell was out of danger but was still unconscious and that he wasn’t allowed in to see her until she was up for it. But he needed to see her, needed to see with his own eyes that it wasn’t just some cruel prank the universe was playing on him and that his mentor was back where she belonged and wasn’t lost to him forever. He approached the desk once more, seeing the exasperated look of the curly haired blonde there, she’d already spoken to him several times today, but he wasn’t going to stop visiting until he was allowed to go in and see Grell with his own eyes! He thought back to when Alan had come bursting it, blurting out what had happened at the Reap.

 

_“Knox, I know you’re frustrated, but I am not sending you back down there.”_

_“Sir, with all due respect-“_

_“My orders are final Knox. Slingby and Humphries have taken three other Reapers with them, that is more than enough to cope with any incidents that happen there.”_

_“But what if it’s the same group, the same demon!”_

_“Then I am certain they will make whatever choices are appropriate.”_

_Ron glared at Will, sitting completely calmly behind his desk and drinking coffee as though he wasn’t busy forbidding Ron from going to get answers and revenge on the being that had dragged Grell off to a horrific fate. More bodies dying from a demon in the exact same place where they had died only a few days ago, how could it not be linked? He opened his mouth to continue the argument; Will had to see sense eventually right? But before he could get another word out, the door to Will’s office slammed open and Alan rushed in, looking like he’d just had the shock of his life. Will turned to glare at the interruption, coffee cup held halfway up to his mouth. It was practically unheard of for someone to barge in without knocking, especially when he was already dealing with somebody else in his office._

_“Will!” Alan panted, there was a smear of blood on his cheek and Ron felt his stomach drop, what had happened now? What curse was on that place that more tragedies could occur there?_

_“Humphries? What happened?” Will said sharply, standing up and reaching out to summon his scythe, clearly he was just as concerned by this as Ron was._

_“We...we found Grell!” Alan blurted out, eyes wide and disbelieving. “They-they came back through the portal! She’s_ alive!” __

_A dead silence filled the office, Ron stared, unable to actually comprehend what Alan was saying, after all, it was absolutely impossible. Grell was, she was... A sudden shattering noise caught his attention and he looked over, Will, their cold, heartless and unflappable boss had dropped the cup of coffee he’d been holding, letting it shatter over his desk and spill a wave of liquid over all the paperwork he’d been completing prior to Ron and Alan coming in. There was open shock and incredulity on his face, more emotion than Ron had ever seen before, and he belatedly realised just how much this whole thing must have been affecting the supervisor._

_“What?” Will snapped, banishing his scythe and stepping forward, looking like he was hastily trying to regain his composure._

_“Yes sir! It was the same demon, the same portal, and she must have come back through first.” Alan spoke quickly, his hands gesturing as though he were too excited to get the words out fast enough. “We didn’t even see her at first, but she was awake and talking and everything!” His face fell a bit. “She was hurt though, Eric’s taken her to the infirmary, I don’t know how bad it was, but she was in a lot of pain...but she was alive! She made it back!”_

_Awareness finally seemed to penetrate through Ron’s brain and he stepped backward, physically feeling faint at that news. He raised a hand and pressed it against his mouth, Grell was alive, she’d survived, he would have a chance to see her again, to tell her how sorry he was, tell her how much she meant to him. He had to go see her, now! He moved towards the door, intent on heading to the infirmary and going to see her as soon as possible, as he approached the door though, Will was ahead of him, emotionless mask back in place, but betrayed by the speed of his footsteps as he hurried down towards the infirmary, Ron and Alan on his heels._

_Of course even after they arrived there they weren’t allowed to see Grell. The sympathetic receptionist told them she’d been taken in for surgery immediately and directed them to the small waiting room at the side. The only other person there was Eric, pacing up and down and chain smoking. All four Reapers didn’t say a word, just sitting or standing around the room, lost in their own thoughts as time ticked onwards with no news._

_After an indeterminable length of time Ron found himself sitting in one of the uncomfortable chairs next to Will. The supervisor had managed to manifest his paperwork and was filling in forms, though the frequent glances towards the door where the doctors would come through, and the occasional pauses where he’d forget about writing and just stared into space showed his mind wasn’t completely on the work at hand. Ron raised his head from his hands to look over at him properly. The mask was mostly back in place, but he could see the cracks beginning to form in it, the slight clenching of a jaw, the way his pen would tap impatiently against the paper whenever his train of thought got disturbed._

_“You’re really worried about her aren’t you?” He said softly. “Heh...I bet no one else would ever actually believe that you know, Supervisor Spears, the perfect emotionless head of London dispatch being worried over Grell Sutcliff, the madwoman of London and Jack the Ripper.”_

_“They’re not supposed to realise.” Will said shortly, eyes fixed on the figures he was calculating. “People don’t like to believe those above them are fallible and can be swayed by feelings. It creates uncertainty.”_

_“Sounds like a lonely way to live though.”_

_“That is of no concern.”_

_“You’ve gotta have some friends though, it’s not healthy to be completely alone.” Ron said, thinking back to his human life, how loneliness and desperation could drive a man to the very darkest deeds. “And you’re worried about Grell, so you two must actually be friends.”_

_“Knox...”_

_“So you do care about her, right?” He ploughed on, wondering where he was getting the nerve to actually say this, but deciding that if he didn’t say it now then it would never actually get said at all. Will looked up from his work at last, glaring at him, but Ron didn’t back down, waiting for an answer. “She’s your friend right?”_

_“Sutcliff is a colleague of mine. Sheer proximity and time have-“_

_“No sir, not a politician’s answer, is she your friend?”_

_“....Yes. Grell Sutcliff is my friend.” Will finally said, looking away, back towards the door where the doctors would come through with news. Ron sat back against his chair, relieved, he’d been worried Will wouldn’t be able to say it, the truth was fairly clear to see, but Will was stubborn, and Ron wanted him to admit it._

_“Then you should tell her that.” He said quietly, following Will’s gaze to watch the door again. “Cos’, and no offense sir, but I don’t think she knows that and it would make a massive difference to her I think...and, well...if this has shown us anything it’s like a reminder that even Reapers can die, and we shouldn’t hide these things from each other.” He twisted his hands together in his lap. “So you should tell her, should tell her she’s your friend before you lose her again.” Had he gone too far? He glanced over surreptitiously at Will’s face, trying to read his expression._

_“I....shall take your words under consideration.” Will said, standing up as the door opened at last, and the exhausted but triumphant doctor coming in, wiping his hands on a towel._

 

Of course they’d let Will in to see her, even when she hadn’t woken up yet. Apparently being her direct supervisor came with privileges. He, Alan and Eric had been turned away with multiple assurances that everything had gone well and that Grell was now resting comfortably and when she woke up properly they would be welcome to come and see her for themselves. Which was what Ron had been trying to do for the entire day since, but had been turned away each time. Now though as he reached the desk, the receptionist’s wary look faded into a smile and before he could ask the same questions he’d been asking all day she spoke up.

“Room 106, just down the corridor. She’s still rather fragile so don’t you go upsetting her or anything, but you can go and see her.” Ron gaped at her, caught off guard by the very thing he’d been wanting to happen all day finally occurring, then remembered his manners enough to blurt out a _‘thank you!’_ as he took off running down the corridor, counting door numbers and skidding to a halt in front of number 106. The door was shut and as he reached for the handle his nerves suddenly rose up, strangling his movements, what if she didn’t want to see him? What if she was furious with him, hated him and blamed him for not being good enough to save her? She’d be well within her rights to do so...but he needed to let her know how sorry he was, and how relieved he was to have her back.

He pushed open the door, even if she hated him now, just getting to see her alive would be more than enough, more than he’d ever thought he could have ever had again. The door opened easily and he bit the inside of his cheek nervously as he stepped into the small very white room. It was blindingly white, well, most of the Reaper Realm was really, but the infirmary had taken it to the logical extreme; white floors and walls, a white bed with white sheets and white lights lighting up the area. About the only thing that wasn’t white was the splash of red sitting in the middle of the bed, flipping through a book and looking bored. Grell looked awful, thin and drawn and haggard, with a bruise purpling her cheek and bandages wrapped around what looked like half her body, and yet she still managed to be the most amazing sight he’d ever seen in his life as she looked up from the page she was on and met his eyes, a sharp toothed smile spreading across her face.

“Ron!” She said, her voice light and playful as she pushed the book away, looking delighted to see him. Ron stared at her a moment, trying to absorb the idea that she was actually there and didn’t seem to hate him. He started to reply to her, but the words got stuck in his throat and instead he found himself taking two quick steps towards the bed and practically throwing himself at her, desperately trying to be gentle as he hugged her. She didn’t hesitate before reaching up and wrapping her own arms around him, pulling him tight against her. He leaned his head into her shoulder, feeling the sobs welling up in him, he’d been holding himself together for so long, and now it was over, it was okay.... One of her hands ran soothingly through his hair as he wept like a child, hating himself for being this weak in front of her, but at the same time impossibly grateful that he was being given this opportunity again. He bit his lip, trying to get control of himself and finally managed to pull back again, eyes still wet.

“S...sorry...”

“Oh don’t apologise Ronnie.” She said, and if her eyes were a little bit damp as she looked at him, well, he would never dream of mentioning it.

“No, I need to apologise, I wasn’t fast enough, I could have grabbed you, could have s-stopped it-“

“Ron, Ron, Ron, _Ron,_ my favourite Junior, it’s alright.” She said, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly as she smiled at him. “You did everything you could, it wasn’t your fault darling!” She waved a hand as though dismissing the whole idea. “You did all you could and more besides; it was just one of those things that happen, we can’t be lucky every time.”

“But-“

“Nope, no buts Ronnie, this really wasn’t your fault and if anyone dares imply that it was, just give me their names and I’ll take care of it!” That made Ron crack a grin at last, it was such a Grell answer to any problem. “Besides, if it had to happen to one of us, I’d far rather it was me than you, I’m sorry for leaving you alone, to deal with the whole fallout of it all. Will told me about the investigation and then he had to tell me I wasn’t allowed to go and carve those pompous self obsessed idiots into itty bitty pieces for you.”

“Grell...”

“I mean it. How dare they imply that you were somehow to blame for this!” She scowled, moving to sit up and then flinching a bit and settling down against the pillows. “Obnoxious hard headed morons.” Ron shook his head, smiling wide enough to make his cheeks hurt.

“You have no idea how good it is to hear you say things like that again.” He told her, he hadn’t thought he’d ever get a chance to listen to her elaborate insults ever again, or see her fight with whatever a person in authority was trying to tell her to do.

“Well it’s good to know a few people missed me at least.”

“A few people?” He laughed. “Grell, you have no idea! There’s practically a flower shop in your office now, everybody paying respects. I think once you’re well enough for all visitors you’re going to get swamped.” She looked disbelieving. “It’s true! Alright so it shouldn’t have taken you, um, nearly dying to make everyone realise it, but you are a member of the team here and everyone was sad to lose you.” He vowed to get a few photos of her office to her as soon as possible, she needed to see it.

“Now you must be jesting with me, I’ve already had Will in here, being far more human than I’m used to...”

“Good, you deserve to know that people actually like you.” He squeezed her hand tightly. “I missed you...and don’t you ever dare scare me like that again, alright? I refuse to go through this again.”

“Oh I have no intention of repeating this little trick! I think one holiday in hell is enough for me!” She laughed and Ron found himself laughing too, sheer relief and joy and thankfulness bursting out of him.

“It had better be!”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,”

“Grell....”


End file.
